Camping Trips
by SquirrelWho
Summary: Somehow Rose talked Sherlock into camping. Not only with her, but with her family as well. This was definitely not his area. A one-shot. Doesn't really go with any other stories, but if you want to pretend it does that's fine. Roselock


For TheWheelWeaves because of her less than perfect camping trip. :)

* * *

Sherlock sat, irritably, in one of the fold-out chairs they brought along as Rose, Jackie, Pete, and even Tony set up the tents. He was banished by Jackie after she told him, in that grating voice, that, _no she wasn't going to move the tent for a third time and he should sit down and shut it if he wasn't going to do any actual work_.

He pulled out his mobile to text John only to find there was no signal.

"There's no signal," he said, speaking to himself, but, of course, Jackie had to comment. She of the mouth that never closed.

"Of course not, you cabbage. Does it look like we're near anything?" she replied.

He rolled his eyes, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He should be working a case, not out in the middle of the forest for…_fun_. A repulsive shiver ran through him. How the hell did Rose manage to talk him into this?

_They worked his last case together. John had been busy and, as became Sherlock's new norm, he phoned Rose to see if she was free to join him. The case spanned two days and after wrapping it up with Lestrade he found her outside talking on her phone._

_"__Of course I can take a couple days off," she said, that smile in place that always made him feel…something he didn't like to dwell on. "No, it sounds brilliant."_

_Then she ended the call and turned her smile on him, washing that something over him, which was a sort of warm feeling, that he also didn't like to dwell on. _

_"__Good news?" he asked before he could think better of it._

_"__Saturday's Tony's birthday," she replied, taking his arm and squeezing up next to him, something that had also become a norm. "You'll come, won't you?"_

_"__Um…"_

_Birthday parties weren't really his thing. She pulled her lips into a pout, giving him THAT look, the one he could never refuse._

_"__Please?"_

_"__Of course," the words escaping him as if they had a life of their own._

_"__Brilliant," she beamed._

_The smile that appeared banished any thoughts of berating himself as one drew the corners of his lips up to mirror hers._

Right. He sighed. Sentiment.

"Sherlock," Rose called, his eyes immediately found her, putting the finishing touches on the tent she'd been working on. "Would you get some firewood together?"

He knew he needed something to do. His twitchy body was already showing signs of boredom. Gathering firewood wasn't something he wanted to do, but it was her asking so he stood up.

"Take Tony with you," Jackie called.

He rolled his eyes. He liked the boy about as much as he liked any child, children not being his area and babysitting, definitely, not being his area.

"Yay," Tony laughed, running over to him and hugging him, which made him uncomfortable.

He patted the boy's head, not entirely sure what to do. _Her_ laugh drew his attention. He looked up to find her smiling at him. He was unable to keep himself from smiling back and suddenly taking the boy with him to gather firewood didn't seem so bad. After all, it would please her. He paused, wondering when that became important, but shook it off a moment later as he headed into the line of trees with Tony following.

* * *

Gathering firewood with a six year old proved to be nearly as challenging as chasing down a thief. The boy was constantly distracting, running after a squirrel once, thankfully Sherlock's legs were much longer and he was able to catch Tony before the boy got too far. Then there was the rabbit and he was forced to pull Tony out of a hollowed out log. Not to mention the butterfly that drew the boy onto a large and highly precarious rock formation, which was why he was still gathering firewood nearly an hour later when Rose found him.

"I was wondering where you'd got to," she said. "I thought you'd be finished by now."

He turned around as she walked toward him.

"Yes, well, your brother's a bit of a challenge," he replied.

She laughed.

"Just getting that now are you?" She glanced around the area. "Where is he?"

Sherlock looked around, finding the area empty.

"I…" he trailed off. "He was just there." He gestured over his shoulder where he'd sent the boy to pick up a long branch he noticed lying on the ground. The branch was still there, but the boy was gone.

"You lost him?" the fear in her voice set him to action.

He dropped the firewood and moved over to where he sent the boy.

"Tony!" he called.

Rose picked up the chant as they began searching the area.

* * *

Twenty minutes later Rose, Sherlock, Pete, and Jackie were searching the woods, calling the boy's name.

"Bloody worthless you are," Jackie snapped.

"Mum, it's not his fault," Rose defended.

"I was looking forward to grandkids, but maybe it's best if you don't have any."

Sherlock's entire mental process ceased as his eyes snapped to Jackie.

"Sorry?" he asked, that being the only thing he could say, but she didn't reply, her focus turning back to the search.

He glanced at Rose and found her cheeks tinged a slight pink. He took all of the thoughts that surfaced, thoughts that involved her and the way she smiled at him and the way she made him feel and shoved all of them into a room in his mind then pulled the door closed. She was his friend. Like John. Nothing more. He couldn't afford sentiment, not that sort. He spent too long perfecting his mind to have it fall prey to that sort of thing.

He turned his focus back to Tony, concentrating all of his mind on that. He doubted the boy made it this far on his own and they passed no evidence of Tony having fallen prey to an animal attack, but where could the boy be? That was when he remembered the hollowed out log.

He turned around, his mind in sync with his body and, without a word, he dashed back the way they came.

"Sherlock!" Rose yelled.

It was her voice and her voice only that could penetrate his mind at any given time.

"I know where he is," he called back without stopping.

He heard the others give chase, but he ignored that as he dodged trees and leapt overturned logs, appearing almost graceful to anyone watching. He made it back to the area the boy vanished from in record time. He rushed to the hollowed out log and when he bent down he could just see the boy's feet.

He reached in to extract the boy, but was shoved aside, roughly, by an angry and panicked Jackie Tyler.

"Get the 'ell out of the way," she demanded.

He drew his brows together in irritation, but before he could shoot of a scathing reply Rose's hand was on his arm as she helped him up. Something about her touch, he could neither explain nor understand, calmed him. That happened nearly from their first meeting.

Jackie was able to pull the boy out, who had fallen asleep inside the log and hardly woke as she picked him up. Rose kept her arm looped through Sherlock's as they walked back to the campsite, but as soon as they were within sight a disaster greeted them.

"Brilliant," Jackie snapped. She glanced at Sherlock, still upset over him losing her son. "Did you plan to ruin Tony's camping trip or do you accidentally destroy everything you're part of?"

He was about fed up with Rose's mum and was about to tell her exactly where she could go when Rose cut him off.

"'S not that bad," she said.

"Not that bad?" Jackie replied. "Are you seeing the same thing I am?"

Two of the three tents had been ripped practically to shreds. The third had been trampled by some large animal. Bags of dry groceries looked as if they exploded, raining bits of food from one end of the site to the other.

"The cooler and the sleeping bags are still in the car."

"We'll have to go back."

"No," Tony wined in a tired voice.

"Let's see how bad it is first," Pete said, moving over to the destroyed tents.

"I can see how bad it is," Jackie miffed.

Rose located a chair that was still whole and sat it up for her mum, who sat down irritably, still holding Tony.

"Let's give my dad a hand," Rose suggested, giving Sherlock's arm a squeeze.

* * *

That night while Sherlock sat in the backseat of the car, not entirely sure how his arm found its way around Rose or how she could sleep so comfortably with her head resting on his shoulder, he realized that she could make anything, not only tolerable, but worth it. Eventually, he slept and sometime during the nigh his grip around her tightened. She moved closer as his cheek came to rest on the top of her blonde head.

* * *

Standard Disclaimer.

Thank you to all my brilliant readers!

**Reviews are always welcome. :)**


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